


Ben Parish is Still Some Kind of Gorgeous

by triflingthings



Category: The 5th Wave (2016), The 5th Wave Series - Rick Yancey
Genre: F/M, Sad and angsty, Sammy dies instead of being taken, but a happier ending, t for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triflingthings/pseuds/triflingthings
Summary: As soon as Cassie's family died, she knew that she had to get out. She knew she had to run and never look back. She couldn't function in that godforsaken camp, in that godforsaken town - hell, even that godforsaken state. She was perfectly content with managing on her own, thank you very much. That is, until she runs into Ben You-Were-Some-Kind-of-Serious-Gorgeous Parish.
Relationships: Ben "Zombie" Paris & Cassie Sullivan, Ben "Zombie" Parish/Cassie Sullivan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Ben Parish is Still Some Kind of Gorgeous

I was out of goddamn Slim Jims. I should have grabbed some on my last run to the gas station. I saw a whole entire box of them just sitting out in the open, but I was one hundred percent positive that I didn't need any more, so I didn't even check in my bag to make sure. That should tell you how good my judgement is.

I huffed and wiggled out of my tent, zipping it back up and grabbing my backpack and my gun as I head for the edge of the forest. It really shouldn't take me that long, and it's just now dusk, so I huff one last time in self-annoyance and trudge through the grass. There weren't any drones out, thankfully, but I picked up my speed as soon as the gas station was in my line of sight. I didn't want to be out in the open any longer than I had to. 

I hated coming back here after the Crucifix Soldier situation. It didn't feel right, to be intruding on his place of rest or whatever you want to call it. Not when I was the one who killed him. But I had to. I knew the store like the back of my hand at this point, and I was almost positive that no one else came here.

Almost.

The box of Slim Jims were where I saw them just yesterday, so I make a beeline for their aisle. I grab them and plan to turn and leave, but think better of it before snatching another can of sardines, a bag of peanuts, a travel size of toothpaste and - ah ha! Behind a bag of Doritos and a six pack of beer that someone left was a box of tampons. I grab those as well and shove everything into my already overflowing Jansport. 

I rise from my crouched position, only to fly down back into it a millisecond later. Two aisles over, facing the opposite direction, was a head of brown hair. I'm always quiet when I go anywhere, so it's no surprise that they didn't know that I was here. I look down at the grimy tiled floor and take a shuddering breath. I didn't want this to happen. Not again. I didn't want another Crucifix Soldier situation. My head snaps out and my mind is pulled out of its attempt to calm itself down when I hear the loading of a gun and its safety being switched off. 

I'm shaking just slightly, but I grip my gun in my hand where it's out of view from whoever is behind me, and slowly stand up. I'm slightly sure that this person isn't an Other. If they were, I'd have a bullet in the back of my brain already. 

"Put your weapon down," the voice says. They were definitely male, but he didn't sound like an adult.

I shake my head slightly, just enough so that he could see it. "Put yours down first," I reply. It was worth a shot.

I heard him make a sound, almost like an annoyed laugh. "Hell no. Turn around."

I internally groan and curse whoever was above me - God, the aliens, maybe an audience like in The Truman Show, because this definitely had to be some sick television show that I'm living in. I turn around extremely slowly, and keep my gun pointed straight in front of me.

"Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Cassie?"

My breath catches in my throat. This is a joke. This has to be a joke. There's no way that Ben Parish is standing in front of me right now. Absolutely no way. But he is, because we drop our weapons at the same time and run into the other's arms. We weren't even close, and Cassie from four months ago would most definitely be pissing herself at the moment, but right now it's better to see a familiar face than either of us could have imagined. 

His shirt is soft, because of course it is. I'm pretty positive that I'm crying and that there's a growing wet spot on his chest, but I can't force myself to care. It's Ben, and I'm lonely, and I'm pretty sure that I won't live to be eighteen so, honestly, I have no care in the world.

I pull back and look up at him, at Ben, at You-Were-Some-Kind-of-Serious-Gorgeous Ben, who still _is_ some kind of serious gorgeous. 

He spoke first, because I think that I'm in literal shock and probably couldn't form a coherent sentence if I tried. "Wha- What are you doing here. How are you _alive_?"

I shook my head and answered, "I don't know! How are you? And why are you in my gas station?" He laughed and stepped back, picking up his gun, turning the safety off and sticking it in the pocket of his bag.

"I ran out of toothpaste, so I came here to check if they had any. I'll be damned if I go out with bad teeth." I think I'm gonna faint. Should that be as hot as it is? No, it shouldn't. He continued, "But it looks like there's none left, so." He scratched the back of his neck, a move I've seen him make before, in that halls or when he was being congratulated for his multiple touchdowns at the homecoming game.

My mouth seemed to catch up to my brain, but not before it opened and closed a few times. "Well- uh- yeah, that's probably my fault. I just grabbed the last tube, because oral hygiene, you know?" I visibly cringed at my choice of words. Thank fuck, though, he laughed. An honest to God laugh. I can feel the redness swallowing me whole at this point.

He shook his head as his laughs died down. "Yeah, yeah I know. It's cool though, I'll just go to the store up the road. They were fully stocked of everything besides beer the last time I checked." He looked to the door and started to make his way towards it before he spoke again. 

"Hey, you coming with?" My mouth decided to stop working once again, but I picked up my bag and my Luger and followed him out of the store.

\--

The walk to the next store was quiet at first, but then Ben asked where I was staying, how I made it this far, if I had any family left, and I answered every question honestly: in the woods in a tent, no clue, and none. I asked him the same questions and his answers were nearly the same, except that instead of staying in a tent in the woods, he found a cabin that seemed to have been evacuated. It was even deeper into the woods than my tent was, which seemed like a good idea. 

"Yeah, it's a couple miles walk so I try and stock up on as much as I can so that I don't have to come back all that often." I nod, because it seems reasonable. 

I let out a small laugh and say, "Well, it's no flimsy tent, but sure, it sounds alright." He laughed, too, and steps through the shattered glass door of the small convenience store. My eyes nearly bug out of my head as I look at the entire back shelf stocked full of food. Are you serious? I've been eating sardines when all of this exists just a mile down the road?

"Who would just leave all of this food?" I wonder aloud. It didn't make sense, not when people like my dad were stocking up until the pantry was overflowing with non-perishables. 

Ben shrugs as he makes his way to the hygiene aisle. "I dunno. I think everyone left pretty quickly or died before they could realize the severity of the situation. I don't think that stocking up was on that many people's minds." He was right, but it still didn't make any sense. 

Yeah, my concerns about that went through the window as soon as I laid eyes on a can of sour cream and onion Pringles that were staring me in the face, practically begging for me to rip open the lid and shove my fist into the cylinder. Which, to be honest, is exactly what I do in the most unflattering way possible.

"Holy shit!! Ben, they have Pringles!" I say through a mouth full. He grins and shakes his head but grabs a few nonetheless. 

He turns on his heel and heads to the next aisle over, coming back with two messenger bags. "They don't have any backpacks, but these should do. Could you fill this one with food and I'll fill this one with toothpaste and things like that?" I nod and he throws me the bag before disappearing into the other side of the store. 

I grab anything that I could reach, making sure that I get him a variety of items. Pickles, cookies, peanut butter, cans of corn and chicken broth, some dried fruit, and beef jerky are among the hoards of food that I grab. If I'm never going to see Ben Parish again, I'm sure as hell going to make sure that he eats as good as he can. Maybe he'll look at the can of corn one day and think, _Hey, Cassie had some pretty good taste. I really should have asked her to homecoming last September._ Probably not, but it's a nice thought to have. I grab another bag before filling it for myself.

Ben appears beside me, clasping the buckle on the bag. "Alright, it's nearly dark, we should get going." I nod and follow him out of the store.

At the door, I pause for a moment. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear with one hand and hand him the bag that's most full with my other. "Alright, well I should probably get going before the drones start coming out. I'd rather not be obliterated, ya know," I laugh nervously. "Thank you, Ben. Really. It was nice to see a familiar face."

Ben looks shocked for a moment and I fear that I said something wrong. His mouth hangs open for a split second before he reaches out to tug gently on my wrist.

"Hey, no way! We should stick together, since two people against an entire race of aliens is better than one, and all that. C'mon, let's go to your tent and grab your stuff and then you can stay at the cabin," he says earnestly. I notice a blush stain the tips of his ears, almost as if he's nervous.

"Oh, no, I couldn't." He starts to protest but I cut him off before he gets the chance. "Seriously, that would mean that there's just one more person there to eat your food and drink your water. I couldn't do that to you."

He shakes his head, more vigorously than probably necessary. "Nope, no way. Come on, we're staying together. And look at this place! I'm not really worried about food, Cass."

Oh my God, he called me 'Cass'. A fucking nickname. Oh my God.

He grabbed my hand and tugged on it gently, heading to the edge of the woods.

Oh my God, he's holding my hand. My fucking hand. Oh my God.

I snap my mouth shut and follow him, praying to whoever was listening that my palms weren't clammy. They probably were.

\--

The cabin is bigger than I expected. Ben tells me that he thinks it probably belonged to someone who stayed here to hunt during the season, and that whoever it was evacuated but left plenty of clothes. Clothes for a man, a woman, and a little girl. I wonder what happened to them.

No. I can't afford to think that way. Everyone is dead, including my family. These people are no different.

Except that they are. This little girl was a kid just like Sammy. She didn't deserve to die any more than all of the other children did. The tears are streaming down my face long before I feel them.

Ben gently took the bags I was carrying out of my hands and lightly tugged me over to the couch. He sat down next to me and wrapped his arms around me without a word. At the moment, I'm not concerned that this is _the_ Ben Parish holding me as I cry. Instead, I'm only thinking about how he is the only tie I have left with home. I'm thinking about him, and Dad, and Mom, and Sammy, and how much I wish that I could hold his tiny hand in mine just once more. 

My shoulders are shaking and I'm sure that I look like more than a mess, but Ben doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he continues to hold me until well after dark. I'm still crying as Ben shows me my room, but the flow of the tears is slowing down. 

"Goodnight, Cass. It'll be okay, one way or another. We'll keep each other company from now on, okay?" He seems so sincere that I have to nod along with his words. I start to believe them myself. "Goodnight, Cassie." He smiles as he walks the four backwards steps to reach the room across the hall. I smile softly, and close the door, taking a few breaths once it's closed.

Laying in bed, I can feel the tears start to flow again. I haven't allowed myself the luxury of crying since everything happened, and now that I've started I can't seem to stop. I wipe my cheeks before creeping out of the room, careful not to make enough noise to wake Ben up when I open and close the door. 

But once I'm downstairs, I realize that being quiet was pointless. Ben was sitting on the couch facing away from me, but I can tell that his head is hung and between his heads. It only takes a few steps to see the tremble of his shoulders and hear his ragged breathing. I say nothing but I sit down next to him, handing him the water bottle that was sitting in front of him. He huffs a laugh, but I can tell that it's not genuine.

Ben leans back into the couch cushions, sets the bottle down after taking a sip, and holds one of my hands between both of his. I take a breath and lean my head onto his shoulder, and his lays his head on top of mine. After a while, his breathing evens out, and mine quickly follows suit.

Maybe, just maybe, it will be okay. Or as close to okay as we can get in this fucked up new world of ours.

**Author's Note:**

> What better way to spend your time during what feels like the end of the world than to write about the literal end of the world?


End file.
